


Married

by hearmerory



Series: Change of Address [12]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Autistic Zuko (Avatar), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hakoda (Avatar) is a Good Parent, Hakoda Still Struggles, Hurt Sokka (Avatar), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Iroh (Avatar) is a Good Uncle, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:42:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27002941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hearmerory/pseuds/hearmerory
Summary: Hakoda paced back and forth across the living room.His son had been gone for over an hour.His daughter was in her room, the door slammed shut minutes after Sokka and Zuko had left.His mother was in the kitchen, making his favorites for dinner, but she hadn’t spoken to him since the doors had shut around him.He was such anidiot.
Relationships: Bato/Hakoda (Avatar), Hakoda & Katara (Avatar), Hakoda & Sokka (Avatar), Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Change of Address [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1928572
Comments: 78
Kudos: 1004





	Married

**Author's Note:**

> This is sappy, because I had a few people ask me for fluff, happy stimming, Zuko comforting Sokka, and Hakoda.  
> Also, I'm going to stop saying that I'm about to post the final installment for this series. It's always a lie.  
> Enjoy some tooth rotting, with mandatory angst because I can't help myself.

Friday nights were spent at Sokka’s. Once Sokka was done with soccer, and Zuko was done with karate and his personal swords training with Piandao, they always met up at the park and walked over to Sokka’s house.

Zuko had, slowly and awkwardly, slotted right in to Sokka’s little family. It helped that Katara had clearly vouched for him with their grandmother before his first visit — and afterwards, when it had been incredibly obvious that Zuko had been unimpressive.

It had taken a month or so of regular visits to her kitchen, and slightly over enthusiastic praises of her homemade bread and jerky, before he’d won her over completely.

He still had no idea quite how it had happened, but Gran-Gran was now a staunch advocate for him spending as much time at her house as he wanted.

She’d even taken to lightly slapping Sokka upside the head whenever he said anything even remotely teasing to Zuko, and she was quick to turn a stern glare on Katara if she ever reverted back to the slightly snarky comments she’d made at the start of their friendship.

That particular Friday was no different. They’d finished up their after school activities, walked over to the small, brightly colored house on the edge of town, grabbed freshly baked cookies from the kitchen, and headed straight upstairs to Sokka’s room.

Right then, they were sprawled out on Sokka’s bed in their favorite position. Zuko lay on the side furthest from the wall, curled a little on his side so he could see the laptop screen, and Sokka was perpendicular to him, his legs straight up against the wall, half his body lying over Zuko’s chest, the laptop on his stomach.

A long time ago, having Sokka’s weight across him would have felt restrictive, tense, like being held down. But now it was just familiar, and comforting, and like a warmer, friendlier version of the weighted duck toy Sokka had bought him.

“Wanna watch another episode?” Sokka reached up a hand behind him and awkwardly petted Zuko’s hair.

“Sure,” he prodded him in the side with a long finger, making Sokka jerk back with a giggle.

“No tickling,” he whined, grinning. He clicked for the next episode, and the theme tune to some old British mystery drama started up again.

They weren’t really watching, though, and hands kept creeping under t-shirts to rest on warm, soft skin.

Sokka found the two circular scars on Zuko’s chest and grazed his fingers over them. Zuko couldn’t even pretend to be watching tv after that, and he let his own hand drift down Sokka’s stomach.

They both jumped when the doorbell rang.

Sokka groaned and rolled himself over, pushing the laptop onto the bed and resting his cheek on Zuko’s stomach.

“The perils of living with adults, huh?” He groaned, his voice muffled by Zuko’s t-shirt.

Zuko laughed.

“Just because you always just text when you arrive doesn’t mean everyone hates doorbells,” he twisted his fingers carefully into Sokka’s hair and rubbed a circle on his neck with his thumb.

“Sokka! There’s a surprise for you!” Gran-Gran sounded suspiciously excited, and Sokka flipped over Zuko with a moan, landing messily on his feet.

He held out his hand for Zuko to take, and they both smiled as he laced their fingers together.

“Let’s go see what she wants,” Sokka landed a small kiss on the other boy’s scarred cheek, earning himself a blush.

They only got to the top of the stairs before Sokka realized what the surprise was.

“Dad!” He yelped loud enough that Zuko dropped his hand, but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it before he launched down the stairs and into his father’s arms.

Hakoda caught him and span him around, laughing joyfully.

“Sokka! I missed you so much!”

Sokka planted his feet back on the floor and squeezed his arms tight around his father’s middle.

“How come you’re back early? You’re supposed to be overseas for another three months!”

Hakoda carefully disentangled himself from Sokka, and his smile faded slightly.

“I... well, there are a couple of things I need to tell you,” he said, and Sokka couldn’t help noticing the nervousness in his voice.

“What?” Sokka took a tiny step back to look him in the eye.

“I’d like to wait for Katara so I can tell you both at once,” he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Oh,” Sokka frowned a little. What could his dad possibly need to tell them that was making him nervous? “Well, okay. She’ll be back in about fifteen minutes anyways. Let me introduce you to Zuko!”

Sokka looked around and found Zuko still at the top of the stairs, staring down at them.

“Come down here, babe,” he motioned the other boy over with his arm, “come meet my dad!”

Zuko came down the stairs like he was walking to his execution, gripping the banister firmly.

“Hello, sir,” he said in a small voice when he reached them.

“Zuko!” Hakoda grinned, all nervousness forgotten, “it’s wonderful to meet you, son, I’ve heard all about you in Sokka’s letters.” Both boys flushed pink.

“It’s good to meet you too, sir,” Zuko nodded.

“Hakoda is fine,” he didn’t reach out to touch Zuko, and the boy looked absurdly grateful for it. “How long have you two been dating?”

“Dad!” Sokka objected, laughing, “don’t be weird!”

“I’m not being weird!” Hakoda grinned again, “just taking an interest in your love life.”

“Gross,” Sokka shoved him playfully. Zuko bit his lip, the unscarred half of his face going a little pale. Sokka laced their fingers together again and squeezed tight, waiting for some of the tension to release from Zuko’s shoulders. “Officially, like eight or nine months? We were kind of skirting around it for a while before that, though.”

“Excellent. I’m so proud that you’ve found someone who makes you happy.”

Zuko seemed to relax a little then, his arm dipping slightly to brush shoulders with Sokka.

Gran-Gran fussed around them, insisting that Hakoda ate some toast and drink a coffee as they all sat down in the living room. Sokka talked a mile a minute, catching his dad up on all the little things he hadn’t bothered to put in his letters.

Zuko sat a little further away from Sokka than he normally did, and kept glancing at Hakoda as they talked.

It wasn’t long before Katara let herself into the house. She squealed even more loudly than Sokka had, and threw herself on top of Hakoda on the other couch.

“Dad! You’re home early!”

“Hi, baby girl!” Hakoda pulled her into a real hug and kissed the top of her head, “how are you doing?”

Katara launched immediately into her own list of little things he’d missed, and they spent the next half an hour talking and laughing.

Zuko felt like he should leave, but every time he made to stand up, Sokka put a hand on his leg and made a face that even he couldn’t misinterpret as anything other than _stay_.

“You wanted to tell us something, Dad,” Sokka finally interrupted Katara.

Hakoda straightened up slightly, budging his daughter into the seat next to him, rather than her place half on his lap.

“Yeah,” he sighed, “I’m home early.”

“We know!” Katara grinned.

“How come?” Sokka frowned a little. Their dad never came back early.

“Well... there’s some stuff I didn’t tell you guys yet. I was going to tell you when I got back, but something happened that meant I needed to come home before my time was up.”

“ _What_?” Sokka felt antsy now, impatient with how slow his dad was being in telling them whatever secret he’d been keeping.

“We were in a bit of an... accident,” Hakoda rubbed the back of his neck. “Bato, Gilak and I were repairing a tank, and Bato managed to trigger a land mine.”

“What!” Katara gasped, “is he okay?”

“He’ll be fine,” Hakoda reassured, “but he... he got burned, pretty badly. He’s been placed on leave, and he’s at home right now.”

“Poor Bato,” Sokka squeezed Zuko’s knee, suddenly needing the contact. Zuko put his hand over Sokka’s, almost hesitantly, and squeezed back.

“Yeah,” Hakoda said quietly, brushing his forearm across his face.

“But...” Katara frowned, crossing her legs under her on the couch, “that doesn’t explain why you’re back. Did you get hurt too?”

“No,” he reassured, “but... they sent me back with him. On compassionate leave.”

“I didn’t know they did that,” Sokka felt a little lump of confusion in his chest. “I mean... I know you guys are friends and all, but—”

“That’s what I really wanted to talk to you about,” Hakoda closed his eyes, and didn’t open them. “We’re not friends. Bato and I... we got married.”

There was complete silence in the room.

Gran-Gran dropped her empty coffee mug.

“You got married?” Katara asked in a whisper.

Hakoda nodded.

“To Bato?” Sokka felt his hands shaking.

He nodded again, his eyes still firmly shut.

“And you didn’t feel the need to tell us that?” Gran-Gran’s voice was thick with emotion.

Zuko stared between them, wishing with all his heart that he’d left when Hakoda had come in.

“I’m sorry,” Hakoda’s voice broke, and he opened his eyes, “I didn’t want you to find out like this. I meant to tell you ages ago.”

“How long?” Katara sounded on the verge of tears. “How long have you been _married_ without even telling us?”

“A year,” Hakoda whispered, “next month it’ll be a year.”

“What the _fuck_ , Dad?” Sokka stood up, dragging Zuko with him. Zuko felt his breath sharpening, his vision blurring.

“I’m sorry! Your mother—”

“Don’t you _dare_ pretend this is what Mom would have wanted!” Sokka yelled. “She _hated_ liars!”

Zuko flinched violently at the sudden shouting, and his eyes darted between Sokka and his father.

How could Sokka yell at his father that way? Shouting was _dangerous_. Defiance was _dangerous_. Disagreeing with fathers was _dangerous_.

“Sokka,” Hakoda tried to reach out, but Sokka backed away.

Zuko had to yank back at the impulse to throw himself between Sokka and his father.

His hands were even larger than Ozai’s, his muscles better defined, his frame taller. Sokka was thin and tiny and weak compared to him.

“We’re leaving,” he announced, pulling Zuko to the door and shoving his hoodie into his hands. “Come on, babe.”

Zuko scrambled into his shoes, and darted out after him, flinching again as the door slammed behind them.

* * *

They walked in silence to the park.

Sokka’s strides were longer than normal, his breaths coming too quickly.

Zuko felt the familiar clench of fear, of uselessness, of _stupidity_ , as the silence extended.

He should have been able to offer something. To comfort Sokka, like he had so often comforted him.

_There’s nothing you can offer._

_You’re the worst person in the world to be here with him._

_You don’t seriously think you can help? You get more pathetic every day._

Eventually, they reached a picnic table in the middle of the park, and Sokka started pacing back and forth in front of it. Zuko sat down on one of the benches, facing outwards, never letting the other boy out of his sight.

“I don’t give a shit that it’s Bato,” Sokka snapped, breaking the silence as though there hadn’t been a fifteen minute pause since the last time he’d spoken. “They’ve been best friends for years, and I’ve known Dad’s bi since I was like ten.”

“Then why—”

“He didn’t _tell_ me!” Sokka yelled, “they’ve been married for a year and he didn’t tell me! He thought, what? That I didn’t deserve to know? That I’d handle it badly? That I’d give a two shits that he loves a guy? No. He didn’t tell me because he didn’t want me to know. He didn’t tell me because he _knows_ Mom wouldn’t have approved of some spur of the moment decision that didn’t involve us at all!”

Zuko shrank away as Sokka got louder, eyes fixed on his clenched fists as he paced.

_He’s mad. And you’re failing. You know what happens when you fail._

Zuko shivered, and shoved the thoughts away. He was fine. Sokka had asked him to come. Sokka wanted him there.

“It’s like he doesn’t even _care_ what Mom would want!” Sokka ranted. “And he clearly doesn’t care what Katara and I want, or he wouldn’t have done this behind our backs!”

“Do you... do you not like Bato?” Zuko buried his hands between his legs, trying to stop the nervous waves going up and down his fingers.

“I love Bato! We all love Bato! He’s been Dad’s best friend since college, and he was always around when we were kids. But they got _married_ , Zuko! I didn’t even know they were dating!”

“I... you don’t like that he kept it secret,” Zuko felt like he was trying to piece together a puzzle with missing pieces, when he didn’t even know what the picture was supposed to be. “You feel like he lied?”

“Exactly!” Sokka pulled his hair out of his short bun and ran his hand through it. “He should have told us!”

“You feel betrayed,” Zuko nodded, starting to understand.

_Congratulations, you half identified one emotion when it was right under your nose. Idiot. Fail._

Zuko glanced down at his hand in disgust as it automatically came out from between his legs and turned over, ready for the inevitable hit across his palm. He clenched it into a fist and watched his fingers twitch with the pressure before he shoved it back down under his thigh.

“Yeah! Like, I came out to him not even a year and a half ago. So maybe a coupe of months before he married another man! That sounds like a pretty great time to come clean!”

“Maybe he didn’t want you to feel like he was undermining your moment?”

Zuko swallowed down the anxiety, trying to settle his heart before it got too off pattern. He’d be of even less use passed out.

“He should have _told_ me!” Sokka clenched his fists again as his pacing picked up speed.

“Maybe he had reasons you don’t understand,” Zuko bit his lip. Adults always had incomprehensible reasons for their actions.

“Spirits, Zuko, I don’t _care_! Stop defending him!” Sokka spat, rounding on him and flailing his hands above his head.

Zuko shied away, half expecting a blow. Sokka had never yelled at him before. He had to pull himself together. He had to be the one _giving —_ instead of always, always _taking —_ comfort in this situation.

_Stop lying to yourself. You know you can’t be what he needs._

“There are _no_ good reasons to keep something like that from your family!”

“I... I didn’t mean...” Zuko couldn’t find words to explain that he just didn’t know why Hakoda’d made the choice. Not past the burn of anxiety in his chest, or past his crippling inability to _ever_ have the right words.

“Well, what would you do, huh? If your father randomly announced that he’d got married again?” Sokka’s lip curled up in angry disgust at Hakoda, and Zuko flinched, his insides freezing.

“It... that wouldn’t be any of my business,” Zuko whispered.

“Yeah, but if it _was_? How would you feel about it? What would you do, right now, if you were in my position? If you’d found out that he’d kept it secret, and yelled at him, and walked away?”

Zuko pressed down hard on his hands between his thighs, fingernails digging into flesh, eyes firmly focused on the grass beyond his feet.

He couldn’t look up at Sokka.

Couldn’t bear to see the anger and frustration and sadness on his face.

Couldn't bear to think about how disrespectful, how defiant, how _rude_ , Sokka had been to his father.

Didn’t want to think about the hell he would have brought down on himself if he’d _dared_ do what Sokka had just done.

“I’d have come back, as soon as I could, taken my beating like a _good little boy_ , and never spoken out of turn again,” Zuko said, so quietly that Sokka barely heard him, his voice full of bitter resentment.

Sokka went still.

“Spirits,” he hissed. Slowly, he drew a hand down his face. “I’m sorry.”

Zuko didn’t look up from the ground.

Another silence descended on them, heavy and aching with anger and regret.

Sokka’s breathing changed, little choking noises getting caught in his throat. Almost... almost like he was trying not to cry.

_You ruin everything! You made him cry! You made it all about you, and your stupid, ancient problems, just like you always do, and now you made him cry._

Zuko’s head snapped up, focusing his good eye on the other boy’s pale face.

The moment of eye contact seemed to break something in Sokka, and he launched forward, throwing his legs over the bench to sit facing the table, and shoved his head onto Zuko’s chest.

Zuko stiffened for a second, and then his arms went automatically to wrap around his middle.

“I’m sorry,” he cried into Zuko’s hoodie, “I’m being such a dick.”

“No, no, you’re okay. I promise.”

“He _lied_ to me, Zu,” Sokka choked on another sob, and his entire body shuddered as he wrapped his fists into the front of Zuko’s sweater.

“I know,” Zuko pressed kisses into his hair, holding him tight. He pushed down the roaring in his ears. _You can’t give him what he needs. You’re not capable of it. You can’t feel like a real person._

“Why would he _do_ that? Why keep that from me? I... I... I would have been happy for him.”

“Maybe he just didn’t know what to say,” Zuko murmured.

Sokka shivered again, unable to hold his feelings in any longer.

“I don't like this,” his voice cracked over another sob, “I was really looking forward to him coming home, and now we’re fighting. I _hate_ fighting with Dad.”

“I think... it’s okay to be mad? You’re... allowed to feel stuff.” Zuko squeezed his eyes shut. _Awkward, embarrassing, stupid waste of space._

“T-thanks,” Sokka took a deep, ragged breath. Zuko moved one hand up to card fingers through his hair. “What do I do, Zuko?”

Zuko closed his eyes. He didn’t know.

“We could go back? He was apologizing. Maybe you guys could just... talk?” Zuko had no idea if that would help. He didn’t even know Hakoda outside of Sokka’s stories. His own father would never have accepted an apology for shouting.

“I don’t wanna,” Sokka sniffed, “not yet. Can we just stay here?”

“Course we can,” Zuko landed another kiss on the top of his head.

They sat like that for a long time.

* * *

Hakoda paced back and forth across the living room.

His son had been gone for over an hour.

His daughter was in her room, the door slammed shut minutes after Sokka had left.

His mother was in the kitchen, making his favorites for dinner, but she hadn’t spoken to him since the doors had shut around him.

He was such an _idiot_.

Bato’d told him it was stupid to keep it from the kids.

Bato’d given him so many dirty looks, every time he’d written or called, and not said anything.

Bato was clearly the smart one.

He didn’t even really know why he hadn’t told them.

Except for the niggling feeling in the back of his head. The little voice that reminded him of Kya. The little voice that wasn’t as disappointed as he thought it would be, that was almost encouraging, except when he thought about keeping it secret.

The door opened quietly, and the boys stepped over the threshold.

Hakoda took in his son’s red eyes and slightly disheveled hair. He looked at Zuko’s pale face, and the fierce grip he had on Sokka’s hand.

“Dad?” Sokka broke the silence, and Gran-Gran peered out from the kitchen, listening. “I’d like to talk to you, if that’s alright?”

“Of course,” Hakoda felt his knees shake slightly in relief. This wasn’t irreparable.

“I’ll get Katara. And then I want to hear what you have to say.” Sokka pulled Zuko up the stairs, and Zuko kept glancing down at Hakoda with barely disguised relief and confusion.

Hakoda felt his heart twist a little. He’d heard enough about the boy’s own father from Sokka to know why he was nervous.

The three children came downstairs a few minutes later, and settled on the couch, Sokka in the middle, one hand grasping each of theirs.

Gran-Gran sat in her armchair, her arms folded, looking at him just like she used to when he’d snuck back into the house after a party, or scratched the car, or got himself hurt play fighting with his friends.

“I know I fucked up,” Hakoda started. His eyes twitched up from the floor when he sensed Zuko tense. He inched back in his seat, opening up his posture to look as little like a threat as his broad frame and military bearing could allow. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. You guys should have been at the wedding, and I shouldn’t have kept it from you for so long. I’m really sorry.”

Zuko _stared_.

He couldn’t think of a single time his father had apologized to him.

Not after the burn. Not after he almost let Azula kill him. Not after any of the countless pains he’d inflicted.

“Did... did you think we’d hate it? Or disagree or something?” Katara’s voice was smaller than usual. A little wobbly. Zuko felt Sokka squeeze her hand.

“I don’t know,” Hakoda sighed. “I just... I didn’t want you to think I was... trying to replace your Mom.”

“No one can replace Mom,” Sokka gritted his teeth, and his fingernails bit a little into Zuko’s palm.

“I know.”

“Kya would have wanted you to find happiness again,” Gran-Gran said quietly. Zuko looked down at his lap, unwilling to watch as tears gathered in Hakoda’s eyes.

“Thanks, Mama,” he said quietly.

“But she also valued honesty. And she cherished your children to the last breath. She would have been heartbroken today.”

Hakoda flinched a little, and buried his face in his hands.

“I know,” his breath hitched.

“Why didn’t you just tell us?” Sokka moaned, “we’d have been happy for you.”

“I... I don’t have a justification, son. Or an excuse. Bato and I... we’ve loved each other for a long time. We were on two day leave, and we’d been talking about it for ages, and then we just... we walked by this tiny little church in the middle of nowhere, and we just... asked the priest if he’d do a ceremony.”

“You didn’t join under the Spirits?” Gran-Gran breathed.

“Gilak did our rites that night. But no. We hadn’t planned...”

“Then I suppose we’ll just have to have our own ceremony to make up for it,” Gran-Gran nodded decisively.

The other four turned to stare at her.

“But... they’re already married,” Sokka frowned.

“Not in my book,” she snorted. “Not if they did it in a _church_! Not without an elder, proper ice water exchanges and passing torches. Did you do those things while you were in the little church in the middle of nowhere, son?” She crossed her arms over her chest and raised her chin.

“No, Mama,” he scratched his head in half-amused embarrassment.

“Well then. It looks like we get to come to your wedding after all.”

* * *

Iroh, Zuko and Azula came a little cautiously around to the side of the house, about an hour after sunset.

They’d been told to wear their favorite colors, Iroh hadn’t stopped chuckling since they’d all come downstairs in red and black.

As they opened the gate to Sokka’s back yard, they found that they weren’t the only ones who’d accidentally coordinated.

The small group of people milling around the tables were mostly wearing blue, everyone except Toph, who looked like her parents had dressed her in green, silky materials that Zuko would bet would be filthy by the end of the night, and Aang, in his usual bright orange t-shirt and jeans.

“Zuko!” Sokka yelled from across the garden, “come over here!”

Zuko waved a slightly awkward goodbye to Iroh and Azula, and pushed his way through the small crowd.

“Spirits, you clean up nice,” Sokka wiggled his eye brows at Zuko’s flush. “I said it was just casual, man, you didn’t have to do anything special.”

“Uncle spent ten minutes slicking my hair down,” Zuko lamented, and Sokka giggled, ruffling it back up.

“You look perfect how it normally is,” he rolled his eyes. Zuko made a little disbelieving noise in the back of his throat, and Sokka flicked his shoulder gently. “You know I’m always right about these things.”

“You’re being dumb,” Zuko tried to step back a little, but Sokka followed.

“Uh uh,” he disagreed, “nope. Say it, Zu! Go on, tell me I’m always right!”

“Won’t,” Zuko couldn’t keep the smile off his face as Sokka teased him.

“Babe,” Sokka whined, drawing out the word and turning to fake swoon into Zuko’s arms, “you wound me! This is my father’s wedding, you can’t disagree with me on my special day!”

“Fine!” Zuko rolled his eyes and put his hands up, deliberately letting Sokka stumble a little, “you win, you’re always right.”

“And that _means_?” Sokka grinned and fluttered his eyelids. Zuko flushed again.

“Means you think my hair looks good,” he mumbled.

“Nope. Means your hair is perfect,” Sokka ruffled his hand through it again, and Zuko shuddered, his shoulders hunching as his left fingers twisted.

Sokka looked down curiously at his hand.

“Huh,” he reached out and gently pulled Zuko’s hand towards his chest. “I haven’t seen that one before.”

“I... I think it might... might be happy?” Zuko stretched his fingers out again, making them rigid even as they bent, one at a time, towards his palm to rest against his wrist. “Y-yeah. Happy.”

“Spirits,” Sokka moaned, kissing his knuckles. “Dude, that’s like... really hot.”

Both boys blushed fiercely.

“Can’t call me dude and hot in the same sentence,” Zuko looked up at the moon to avoid looking him in the eye.

“Can too. Just did.”

Zuko couldn’t quite hold in his laugh, and Sokka caught Iroh wink at him from across the yard.

Sokka beamed.

“Come on, hot-dude, lets go find somewhere comfy to hang out for this whole shebang.”

They walked around the outside of the garden to where Toph, Aang, Katara and Azula were sitting. The group was a little awkwardly quiet, but Sokka somehow managed to get everyone talking.

Zuko watched him manage the conversation, never allowing anyone to completely dominate, but never forcing Zuko himself to speak. Sokka even managed to get Katara and Azula started on a side conversation about their college plans.

Zuko leaned into him slightly, and Sokka’s arm came immediately, effortlessly, to wrap around his shoulders. It was delightfully warm under his arm.

About fifteen minutes after they’d arrived, the brighter overhead lights flicked off, and thousands of party lights, strung across the yard, turned on. The half moon glowed low in the sky.

Sokka sat up a little straighter, straining his neck to watch the back door.

A few seconds later, it opened, and Hakoda and Bato stepped into the garden in their traditional blue tribal outfits. Sokka felt his breath hitch. They looked so spirits-damned _happy_.

Zuko watched the men in absolute fascination as they wound their way through the crowd to meet Pakku, one of Iroh’s Pai Sho friends, at one end of the garden, under a particularly dense bundle of lights.

There wasn’t much ceremony about the ritual in a sense that Zuko understood. There was no ring exchange, no drinking from sake cups, no offerings to the spirits or pouring tea on the ground.

Instead, the men took a perfect ball of ice out of a cooler by the wall, and held it between them while Pakku spoke, letting the water drip down their arms as it melted.

They exchanged a series of vows in a language Zuko didn’t speak, with their foreheads pressed together as the ice melted to nothing and their hands touched.

“The lights are about to go off,” Sokka whispered in his ear a few seconds before they did. Zuko squeezed his hand in thanks, and kept watching as Pakku lit a candle and passed it to Bato.

Bato pulled his own candle out of his jacket and lit it from Pakku’s, then lit Hakoda’s for him.

They stood together in silence for a moment, then pressed their foreheads together again, and blew out each other’s candles.

“Noise,” Sokka warned, and Zuko cupped his palms over his ears just as the small crowd erupted into cheers.

Sokka leapt up and ran hand in hand with Katara over to Bato and Hakoda, wrapping them up in a giant hug.

Zuko grinned as he watched them, and his hand spasmed again. He breathed out a small chuckle. He was so used to all the tapping and flapping his hands did being a sign of being overwhelmed, or stressed. It was almost nice, having one that didn’t mean that at all.

He floated away from his friends and back to Iroh, who had already struck up a conversation with one of Gran-Gran’s friends, trying to persuade her to join their Pai Sho circuit.

Zuko slipped in to stand close to his uncle, and Iroh grasped his shoulder proudly to introduce him.

The talk around the garden got increasingly louder and happier as the traditional drinks flowed, and Zuko found that he didn’t mind so much, even if it was still more than he was strictly comfortable with.

Sokka had caught up with him just as Iroh had started telling his new friend all about Zuko’s theater troupe’s summer production, and cheerfully rescued him.

“This was... really nice,” Zuko smiled shyly as they skirted around increasingly elderly and drunk adults.

“Yeah, it was,” Sokka grinned.

“And you’re not... mad at your dad, anymore?”

“Nah, not really. I mean, he did fuck up. But... he’s my dad, you know? We love each other.”

Zuko curled his fingers into Sokka’s and squeezed. He gently pushed aside the thought that no, he didn’t _know_ , he’d _never_ know, what it was like to have a father like that.

Zuko glanced over at Iroh as he threw his head back to laugh at the woman’s joke.

Maybe he did know, a little.

**Author's Note:**

> Told you I wasn't as good at fluff as at angst. We will return to regularly scheduled programming shortly 😂
> 
> Added 10/16 jeez guys, this is now in the top 5 in this series for kudos and comments. I guess we like fluff?
> 
> Added 11/19: there are at least 2 more stories in this series, and they’re both pretty long (one of them is about halfway done and is already 10,000 words), and they’re kicking my butt. But they’ll happen eventually, I promise. Thanks for your patience! I love reading your comments!


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